


The Pegasus

by VolarFinch



Series: The Bronze Knights [1]
Category: Saint Seiya, Saint Seiya: Knights of the Zodiac (Cartoon 2019)
Genre: Character Thought Process, F/M, Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I enjoyed the characters at the very least, I post without editing we die like men, I want to do a drabble for each of them, One-Shot, Other, Saint Seiya: Knights of the Zodiac, Thought Projection, Time to embrace the new!, Timeskip, cursing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-20 00:57:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19983412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VolarFinch/pseuds/VolarFinch
Summary: There was a brief moment, seeing Saori stand up for her grandfather, where Seiya fully believed every word out of her mouth. Knights were real, Athena was real, magic was real. It all made sense when she said it. Her entire being seemed to call to him, to urge him closer, and he had the weird instinct to protect her when Guraad broke down the doors and held them at gunpoint.He shoved that instinct down, away, and kept it under lock and key. He didn’t need to get attached to anyone else Guraad wanted to kill.| Also Known As: Seiya's thought process throughout the years and days and hours and moments[Updated with the proper canon names because season 2 dropped and literally every other dub uses the original, normal names instead of the English dub apparently.]





	The Pegasus

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!! Thanks for reading this fic! I know not everyone is super stoked about Netflix's reboot, but I decided I wanted to share some love. I feel like it has flaws, yes, but was overall an enjoyable show and I could still recognize it as Saint Seiya. The characters are recognizable and are still respected, and I'm so so happy with how they handled Shaun's character. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to genderswap Shun, but they handled her character extraordinarily well, I think.
> 
> I want to do a thought process/through the years fic for each of the main Bronze Saints (and maybe Saori/Sienna) based on the Netflix show and try to bring the show a little love. I'm excited to see how they handle the oncoming arcs, especially, especially the Hades Arc.
> 
> Gods I'm so excited for the Hades arc: holding out for it following the manga for You Know Who being Hades.

Seiya never knew his parents.

He was fine with that. He never cared to know them. If they were so eager to leave him and his sister behind, good. Stay gone. He didn’t need them, not when he had Seika. The other kids at the orphanage didn’t care about them, and they teased him and pulled on his hair, but Seika was always there for him. She’d step in, and it’d be over. Her hands would glow, her eyes would narrow, and the kids would run screaming as the ground cracked under her feet. She was the coolest person Seiya had ever seen. She was always there for Seiya, and he tried to be there for her.

Seika had more trouble sleeping than him. She was one of the older kids in the orphanage, nearly ten years old, so she ended up helping around more and staying up later. He usually tried to stay up for her but failed. She’d tuck him in, and he’d wake up with her sleeping in the bunk above his.

He was never enough though. He couldn’t help that.

Seika could remember their parents. She’d talk to him sometimes, late at night, when neither of them could sleep. She could talk for hours about their parents. He’d listen. He’d always listen. Despite the fact that every word out of Seika’s mouth would make Seiya hate them more, he stayed quiet and let her talk. She needed to hear those words––not him. He didn’t care.

“Mom was kinder than dad,” she’d say. “She tried her best to bring our family together. We didn’t have a lot––we could barely afford to eat most nights. But she always did the best she could. Dad… Dad was always angry, always upset. He wanted us to conform to traditions better. He thought we were leaving our heritage behind. He didn’t like immigrating. He always said we’d be better in Japan, but… When Mom found out she was gonna have another baby, he tried to hurt her. I tried to stop him, but it never did anything. Then, you were born, and they gave us both up.” Her voice would always go quiet here. Sometimes he’d have to strain to hear her. “Just like that.”

He hated his parents. Not for himself, but for Seika, who couldn't find it in herself to hate them. He could hate them for her.

Seiya loved his sister. 

Seiya tried not to think about his sister too hard.

* * *

Sometimes, Seiya didn’t think his sister was entirely real.

He was shipped away after the orphanage got trashed, and Seika vanished in all senses of the word. Her file was gone, her few belongings were gone, none of the adults knew who Seiya was talking about when he mentioned her. The other kids didn’t know a Seika––then again, they didn’t know Seiya either.

The only piece of proof Seiya had that Seika was still real was the crayon doodle he had made the day before she’d vanished. He’d been proud of that piece, claimed to have gotten the colors right and everything. Years later, he looked at the doodle and wondered if her hair had been that red, or her eyes that dark. He wished he looked more like her. He wished he had more to remember her by instead of a shitty six year old doodle.

Years went by, slowly then all at once. Abruptly, he was 12 and Seika was still gone and he wasn’t adopted and he knew he wasn’t going to be adopted. No one wanted him––not even his sister.

(Part of him knew it wasn’t like that––she hadn’t left on purpose. She never came _back_ was the issue.)

So Seiya grew up. He looked closer to 15 than 12, so he picked up stray jobs when he could, making quick cash and trying to avoid the gangs that plagued whatever city he’d been transferred to. He had to admit, he’d been in this orphanage longer than the last three––almost four years now without an issue. His goal had been to age out of the system and try not to end up in jail. It wasn’t much of a goal, but what else did he have to look forward to?

Eventually, though, he was fired––they always found out he was underaged sooner or later. Still, he made enough to buy himself a skateboard. Just in time for his thirteenth birthday.

The skateboard helped keep him out of trouble––he couldn’t leave it anywhere, or it’d get stolen, and if he started a fight, it’d get stolen. It didn’t stop his stupid mouth, but hey, beggars couldn’t be choosers.

He loved his skateboard. It was the one thing he knew that was _his_.

Well, that and a crayon picture tucked in his empty wallet.

* * *

Saori and her grandfather were crazy people. That was literally the only conclusion he could come to––they were actually insane.

Athena? Knights? Magic powers? That was all fantasy. None of that stuff was _real_ . It _couldn’t_ be. That would mean that Seika hadn’t left him, not really, and that Seika had been _real_ . It meant that the ache in his chest wasn’t from shitty diner food, it was from his missing sister. It meant that the picture in his pocket hadn’t been an imaginary friend. It’d been _real_ –– _she_ had been real. It meant that Seiya had been wanted and loved by at least one person in his life, and they’d been taken from him.

Seika had been taken from him. That, maybe, she couldn’t come back for him because of these people.

Kido had said that his technology had caught sight of where his sister had last been seen––that Seika was real and there. That Seika was still _alive_.

Saori and her grandfather were crazy people, but Seiya was desperate enough to believe in anything, and that ‘anything’ was Athena.

* * *

There was a brief moment, seeing Saori stand up for her grandfather, where Seiya fully believed every word out of her mouth. Knights were real, Athena was real, magic was real. It all made sense when she said it. Her entire being seemed to call to him, to urge him closer, and he had the weird instinct to protect her when Guraad broke down the doors and held them at gunpoint.

He shoved that instinct down, away, and kept it under lock and key. He didn’t need to get attached to anyone else who would walk out of his life.

* * *

Sometimes, Athena spoke to him.

He had first heard her voice a year into his training. He was terrible with his Cosmos––he had no idea how to use it, no idea how to focus on all the atoms or whatever Marin said. Every day left him frustrated and upset and bleeding from his knuckles. Every day was one day farther from the Pegasus Armor and from Seika. Every day was another day he went without his sister.

Then, one night, a voice called out to him.

The voice was vaguely familiar––something that resonated deep within him, stirred up sleeping emotions. It felt similar to when he had seen Saori for the first time. Feelings of protectiveness, of correctness, woke inside him. The voice was captivating, calm, quiet, and caring. It held him tightly and promised him that he could do it. It told him that, yes, he _had_ to do it, but that he _could_. The armor wasn’t something out of his reach. 

The voice wasn’t Seika, or his Cosmos, or the Pegasus Armor. It was Athena. It was the goddess that Seiya had spurned and called fake and had hated for a long few months. He blamed her for stealing his sister away. This was _her_ fault, somehow. It had to be.

Yet Athena was the first person to tell him that he could do anything since his sister. Athena was the first person to tell him that he _could_ . Not that he _had_ to––that he _could_.

 _“I believe in you,”_ she whispered to him. 

A few hours later, Seiya activated his Cosmos on his own for the very first time.

* * *

The battle with Cassius was hard. Seiya had always been good at taking a hit, and that hadn’t changed with his training, but Cassius always hit _hard_ . The goliath rarely did things half-assed,––Marin was the only reason he hadn’t been killed in training for the first few years––but he was going all out for the Pegasus armor. Seiya had never seen the man so enraged, so fueled with desire and determination. To be more accurate, Seiya had never _felt_ the attacks against him to be so enraged.

He’d hit the ground more times than he’d care to admit, the wind knocked out of him with each collision. His chest ached, and he knew he’d be feeling the bruises tomorrow, but he forced himself up. The Pegasus armor was calling to him––he couldn’t let it down. He couldn’t let Seika down. He couldn’t let _Athena_ down.

He took a breath and activated his Cosmos.

Marin had explained to him that Cosmos rarely took a physical form––it showed itself in feats of strength and determination. It’s power manifested in response to its Knight, and thus any one Knight could rival that of the Gold Knight if they truly pushed themselves.

Seiya was one of the few people whose Cosmos had a physical manifestation.

Seika’s Cosmos had always come as a bright red, a sunset hue that complemented her skin and hair. Seiya’s Cosmos was sky blue, coating his figure in an ethereal glow as he grinned. His Cosmos always brought out his confidence––it brought out the best in him. He grinned, feeling the power of the Big Bang flow through his veins, and lunged.

The battle ended quickly after that.

* * *

Shaina was a force to be reckoned with, whether her Armor was on or off. If the bruises Cassius had dealt him had not been enough, Shaina’s blows had left him immobile the moment he boarded his plane to Arizona. He was lucky the plane ride was stupid long––he slept the entire time, allowing his Cosmos to flow through his being and heal his injuries, one by one. He only woke up because the girl in the seat next to him shook him awake when they landed.

He’d offered her a sheepish smile and tried to ignore the fact that she was attractive. At some point, apparently, he had actually started to find people attractive. It was weird.

He wasn’t completely healed by the time he stepped foot in the Arizona heat, but at least he didn’t feel like death anymore. That was easily one of the worst feelings he’d ever gone through while training. Thank Athena it was over.

He pulled out the device Marin had given him and glanced around. He still had a way to go, it seemed.

He started to walk.

* * *

Saori had grown up.

That made sense, if Seiya could muster the brain cells to think about it, but it seemed so… weird. She was still fifteen years old in his head, regal but snappy with terrible fashion taste and short hair. Now, though, she had grown. She had to be twenty-one, at least. Her fashion sense wasn’t better, but it had evolved into full eighteenth-century attire with a long white dress and corset. She had to be melting in this heat, yet showed no signs of it. Her hair had grown out past her thighs, compared to her choppy bob from six years ago. Her green eyes fixed on him, and he felt the same calm and ease as he had when he first met her. He belonged here at her side.

He pushed the feelings down and away. He thought he’d be over whatever feelings he had attached to her, but apparently not. Maybe it was puberty. Athena above, he hated puberty.

Still though, no matter what these feelings were, he couldn’t break the rules of a Knight for her. He couldn’t.

Marin had sent him here for a reason, however. _All_ of them had been sent here for a reason. He may not know why Marin sent him here, but he trusted her. She never did anything without reason, even if he wasn’t privy to that information 100% of the time.

He’d make this work.

He would.

* * *

Shun was the nicest of the Knights gathered. She was a lot of things, actually, beyond just “nice”. Attractive was another good word. Supportive. Caring. Fierce. Confident. She felt the most comfortable to be around, especially when he learned about Ikki. He knew what she was going through––after this tournament, he wanted to tell her about Seika. He had a feeling she’d understand him.

Shun was always right behind him, despite her hesitancy to fight. She offered him a supportive beam and a small nod, and Seiya just knew he could do it.

Shun made it easy to smile. Smiling was something Seiya had to practice after Seika. Everything was so _frustrating_ after Seika. Shun wasn’t, though. Shun was easy, like flowing water. She took everything he said in stride; she stood behind him, supported him.

Seiya could learn to like Shun as more than a friend, he couldn’t help but think.

Later, though. Not now. Not now.

* * *

Shiryu was the strictest of the Knights gathered, but Seiya knew he could count on him. Shiryu was someone who, once his trust was earned, would follow you to Hell and back. He was disciplined in a way Seiya and the others weren’t––he had been training much longer than any of them and under a much kinder teacher from the sounds of it.

Marin was nice, yes, but she was not kind. Nice, maybe. Though nice was stretching it

Shiryu was someone Seiya could sit down and talk about Marin with––he could talk about training, about the hardships he went through. Shiryu was someone who didn’t seem to judge, outside of breaking the Knight’s oath, and it was comforting to have a friend like him. Ally like him? Seiya liked to think they were friends, but he couldn’t be entirely sure. It was hard to read him sometimes.

* * *

Hyoga was the coldest of them, both literally and metaphorically. The Knight of the Swan, he trained in the arctic of Siberia. Just standing next to him, Seiya felt his body chill––the man ran as cold as the ice he had grown up in. He was the strongest, mentally, of all of them. He could calculate how long a fight would last and whose weakness was what. It was like a cakewalk to him––he read people as if they were picture books.

He wasn’t the easiest Knight to get on their side,––he was the most antagonistic of them, besides Jabu––but Seiya knew he cared for them. He was wary of him for his near attempt on Saori’s life, but something told him that he wasn’t a threat. Not to Saori anyways.

He hoped to get to know Hyoga better. He seemed like a cool dude.

Pun intended.

* * *

Ikki seemed like an _asshole_.

Seiya didn’t have many opinions on Ikki that could be considered good, but he kept his mouth shut for Shun’s case. The man radiated hate. He radiated anger and frustration and heartache. Seiya could feel the rage simmering in his being, expelling itself through his Cosmos, and he felt himself move in front of Shun instinctively.

Whoever Phoenix Ikki was, he certainly wasn’t the brother Shun had once known.

He wasn’t going to let Phoenix Ikki hurt Shun or Saori or any of them. Not even if it was going to kill him.

* * *

Saori was Athena.

Somewhere in Seiya’s gut, he always knew this. That attraction he always shoved down came back tenfold at her reveal, and he wasn’t as surprised as his body reacted. He knew who she was from the moment they first met, he just hadn’t had a word for what he was feeling.

Devotion. Seiya felt devoted to Saori, to Athena, to his goddess. This was who spoke to him on lonely nights while training. This was who encouraged him, told him he _could_ , pushed him to be something more than he ever thought he’d be.

When Saori knighted Seiya, it felt right. It felt normal. Tension left his body; this was why Marin had sent him. Somehow she’d known about Saori and about this tournament. He’d have to ask her, after he got the Gold Armor back from Ikki. He’d have to thank her for leading him to his goddess.

Athena was his goddess.

The Knights were his family.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!! If you enjoyed the fic, please leave a kudo and a comment! It always makes my day to see someone enjoyed my work!
> 
> Want to see more of my work/follow me? I'm @a_dot_corbin on Twitter and @volarfinch on Tumblr!


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